#multi chap

[tbhk-fanfics]

Never get better than this

By: Carnation

You can read it here on Ao3

I’m currently reading this fic, and it’s quite enjoyable! :D

[tbhk-fanfics]

I Kissed My Best Friend, And She’s a Girl

By: JustAmaneYugi

You can read it here on ao3!

Thank you to @earthboundblossoms for the recommendation!

[tbhk-fanfics]

When Autumn Meets Winter

By: (the lovely) Mokkestealer

You can read it here on ao3

Tis the seasons!

[kanthonyficrecs]

Featured Fic (Canon Divergence)

Remember the Time by Anonymous

Rating: NR

Summary: I read PonderRose's The Son Between Us and wondered how it would play out in the show

[jomiddlemarch]

And whilst our souls negotiate there  

Chapter 2

He’d never have recognized her and Draco had seen her face in his dreams nearly every night since his aunt nearly tortured her to death in their ballroom.

It wasn’t the Glamour, they’d removed that straightaway, which was a pity, because he would have liked to examine the magic more carefully. One of his smallest, mildest, most wholesome regrets was that he’d never had a chance to study at Beauxbatons when he was young enough for their approach to have influenced his own casting; it was not so much a certain panache associated with the way they flicked their wands as a fundamental assumption that magic required beauty and well-done magic was undergirded with a deep and sustaining connection to the world’s terrible loveliness.

Hogwarts offered nothing like that and the pudding was typically uninspiring.

(Yes, Draco had always liked a good lemon soufflé and île flottante.)

Hermione Granger lay motionless in a bed, pale, the wild curls he remembered tied back away from her face. He’d thought for a moment that someone, maybe Donna Numina Gaetana in Padua, had cut them all off, the way he’d read Muggles had used to do for those suffering with fevers before they’d discovered germ theory, though the Healer would have used the hair in any numbers of potions and charms to try and restore Hermione to her senses. Her hands, which he recalled gesturing, holding a wand, reaching out across the parquet floor of the ballroom, lay palm down on either side of her, in a position no healthy sleeping witch would ever take. Her eyes were closed. If he raised her lids to examine her, he knew there would be nothing in her gaze that reflected her animated self, nor her quiescent, banked power.

Her eyes were hazel. He knew that, though he might pretend he didn’t. He’d known it since they’d turned fourteen, before the Yule Ball, before the Snatchers brought her to his house, before she’d glanced at him across the Great Hall of Hogwarts, the battle over, his mother trembling beside him.

If Neville hadn’t told him, he would have taken her falsified chart as truth. He would have shaken his head a little in the general frustration at the loss of an ordinary witch, one he’d assumed a member of Hufflepuff, as he’d noticed nothing about her that was memorable. It would never have occurred to him to question the notation Incurable, Level 3, confirmata per leporem. Muggles called it a vegetative state, which was perhaps partly why Neville, a gifted Herbologist, was so closely involved.

It was also because he’d been in love with Hermione since The Battle of Hogwarts, a patient, unrequited love that he didn’t wear on his sleeve as much as carry as a talisman. His was a love which did not seek possession, most unfamiliar to Draco, as neither the Black nor Malfoy line was known for such unworldliness. He hadn’t spoken of Hermione often, but what little he had said and the way he’d said it had made Draco aware of his affection, if not its depth and breadth.

That he’d learned when Neville brought him to Hermione’s bedside. When he’d picked up one of her hands in his, very gently, and had murmured a spell under his breath, a very old blessing of the North Draco had never heard uttered aloud before. 

“You’ll help her,” Neville said. 

If Draco had said it, about someone he cared about as much as Neville cared about Hermione, it would have been a threat, a binding. Neville was making a promise, to himself and to Hermione, and only offered Draco an encouragement, his faith compleat. 

“I’ll try, Neville,” Draco said. “I can’t promise anything—”

“You needn’t. You don’t like to fail. You won’t start now,” Neville replied.

“She’s been seen by the finest specialists in the world. My superiors. You—and Potter too—you have to understand how little I have to offer her,” Draco said.

Neville smiled.

“Humility at this late stage, will wonders never cease!”

“Neville, I’m serious,” Draco said.

“So am I. You’ve got something those specialists haven’t got, something I think is critical to curing Hermione,” Neville said.

“Salazar help me if this has something to do with the bloody Sorting Hat and some overwrought, badly scanned verse,” Draco muttered.

“Not directly,” Neville said. “Hermione also hates the Sorting Hat. That’s part of it—the history you share, the fact that you were educated by the same witches and wizards, used the same library—you’ll be better able than those specialists to understand what she did and how, how it might have gone wrong. And Harry and I believe what happened to her during the war is intrinsic to the injury—”

“What happened to her?” 

“Bellatrix torturing her. You were there. We think that’s playing a role in her current state,” Neville said.

“It’s my fault, somehow?” Draco asked.

“No, not at all. We think there’s latent Dark magic involved, Black family magic you can access as a close family member. Hermione collapsed shortly after she finished her last attempt at reversing the memory charms on her parents. They survived, but they still don’t really know her. She hasn’t woken since. The specialists believe, most of them, that she irreversibly depleted her magical core. Harry thinks she’s fallen into an enchanted sleep,” Neville explained.

“What do you think?”

“I think she’s trapped. Locked in. And I think you’ll be able to figure out how to set her free,” Neville said.

“And how will I do that?” Draco asked, any snideness in the inquiry overwhelmed by bafflement.

“Ah, mate, if I knew, I wouldn’t have come to you, yeah? I’d have taken care of Hermione myself,” Neville said. “But there is one thing that might help.”

“What’s that?”

“She kept a journal,” Neville said.

“Of course she did,” Draco said. “Hand it over and I’ll start reading—”

“I haven’t got it,” Neville said. There was a long pause, for the realization and the grudging acceptance.

“Potter’s got it. I’ve got to talk to the bloody Boy Who Lived and abase myself, even though you’re asking for my assistance. I’m the one doing the favor—”

“It’s not a favor. He’s calling in his life-debt,” Neville said, his expression darkening. “He shouldn’t have to though. You ought to be glad to be asked. Because it’s Hermione.”

“Fine. Tell Potter I’ll meet him. Wherever he wants. Whenever he wants. He’ll like that, won’t he?” Draco said.

“It’ll make things easier. This wasn’t his idea,” Neville said. It was note-worthy that Neville didn’t try to defend Potter. And that Neville wasn’t in possession of Hermione’s journal. Journals, if Draco were to make an educated guess, keeping in mind the voluminous essays she used to turn in to Potions and Arithmancy.

“Well, we have that in common,” Draco answered.

[batfamficfind]

damian centric fic

Hello and thanks in advance if you find this.

So I think I read this around a year ago, in 2022, Im not sure of the month. I also might be mashing together two stories so apologies in advance. So basically, Bruce brings Damian home to meet the family. I believe he’s around like 10-12, and it’s an AU where the Batfamily all either have wings or something similar. Jason (he’s called the heart? or leader because Bruce is human and the rest aren’t??) rejects Damian, I think he attacked Tim? And Damian is not allowed to leave the east/west wing of the manor, of have contact with any of the family, especially Tim. He doesn’t have any soap to clean his wings (I’m pretty sure it’s wings) and he feels like he can’t ask anyone for help. He starts doing chores with Pennyworth around the house, and I remember Jason specifically being shocked when he finds out because Al Ghul’s never do chores. It’s definitely completed on ao3, but I can’t remember how I found it. There’s a happy ending, where Damian is accepted and they realize that he’s not evil. I swear that they were called aerie or something similar. There’s a similar fic on ao3 where damian is a luciferan and jason is an incubi, but it’s not that one, but the stories are similar. Also I’m pretty sure damian believes that he’s now a slave to the other members, according to Ra’s old ancient and creepy customs (where the Master can do whatever to the lowest member, if you know what i mean :( Anyway, that’s everything I remember. Thanks!

We're not sure about this one, but hopefully someone else knows it!

[kaesficrecarchive]

[minho x jisung]

gold as sunlight by noisehues (4/4 | 82,090 | E)

Jisung meets Minho on a hot summer morning, the July sun unforgiving outside. Walking into the diner makes Jisung feel like he is being sent back in time — to a time when he wasn’t born at all, but also to all those days in his childhood when he would come here with his parents. The checkered floors remain the same, the pink leather booths as shiny as he remembers them being; nostalgia stirs in his chest as the waiters skate past him, effortlessly balancing trays full of food on skilled hands. Mel’s Diner is as pink and cozy as he remembers it being. “Hi, welcome to Mel’s Diner!” the waiter in their signature pink uniform and white skates greets cheerfully. “What can I help you with today?”

When their eyes meet and Jisung is faced with the most beautiful man he has ever seen, he doesn't expect his life to change the way it does. (A story about Minho and Jisung, about growing pains, and on how to fall in love over the years.)

(author)

[kaesficrecarchive]

[mingyu x wonwoo]

fever dream high (you know that i caught it) by mondeblue (9/9 | 47,214 | M)

“Are you staying over tonight?” It takes Wonwoo a moment to realize Mingyu’s talking to him. He looks up again, and finds Mingyu already looking back. “I don’t think so,” he answers. “Why?” Mingyu shrugs, but Wonwoo thinks he can see the tips of his ears turn red. “I don’t want a repeat of, uh, last time.” Seokmin laughs. “Oh, you mean when you hooked up with someone right in front of him?” he says gleefully. “And you didn’t realize he was there until-” “I was there, you know,” Mingyu tells him. “You don’t have to remind me.” (or: mingyu makes the worst first impression in the history of first impressions. wonwoo just wants to maintain plausible deniability.)